A Flawed Fragility: Chapter 28
Author: TheLadyHoll
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
Chapter 28: Not the End
Alright, I'm hoping this efficiently (for me at least) chapter makes up for the tardiness of its predecessor. My next goal will be to have something to offer for the July Fic-a-thon at LJ. Fingers crossed!
Actually, instead of crossing your fingers if you could use them to type up some motivation for in the form of a review that would be swell!
Andy stood outside the restaurant. Doug was already inside waiting where he had been for the last 45 minutes. He knew the mercurial fashion editor was always 15 minutes early and so had arrived a half hour early so that he was sure not to be late.
Outside, Andy continued to pace, refusing to text Miranda on principle. She would be here, she told herself, she said she would be here and she will be. A small voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Stephen's and Lily's and her parents' kept pushing forward the question, 'Will she?' Andy knew that this was a test of sorts that she had put Miranda to, despite having had no intent to do so and despite her own status of being in the doghouse. And she also knew Miranda was smart enough to have figured it out. So what game was she playing? Did she really not want to be with her anymore?
It rankled Miranda to no end that she was being forced to participate in these childish games - even if Andrea hadn't meant for this to be a test, Miranda knew it was one. One she had failed in the past and one it looked as though she would fail now as well. She refused to text the younger woman and apologize. She was still too angry at her for the other night. If Andrea believed in their relationship as she did she wouldn't give up on Miranda so quickly - and she had to believe that, had to hold on to that thought and that belief so that she could claw through the current issues in her life and stay afloat.
But ten, then twenty minutes passed. "Roy," Miranda spoke from the back seat of the Mercedes. "Isn't there anything you can do to get through this traffic?" The usual annoyance sliced through the familiar icy tones, but years of practice meant that Roy could discern a hint of desperation. "I'm sorry, Miranda, they've closed 49th and Levington and rerouted through Carlton. Every direction is jammed solid."
Miranda let her posture slouch slightly and rested her head on the headrest. She had already been nearly 15 minutes late leaving the office; one of the stills had been ruined in transit from the cover shoot for this month and another one had to be chosen in its place. None of them were right for the cover, and the result was sub-par - something Miranda Priestly did not tolerate in her publication. But there had been no alternative and even less time, and short of calling for an entirely new shoot there was no other option. Especially if what Irv had said proved to be true.
The thought of the meeting earlier with the sly, sneering little man played back in Miranda's mind as she heard his pseudo-sympathy and his mocking tone echo in her ears. She was only drawn out of the painful recollection by an even stronger pain at the base of her abdomen.
Taking deep breaths, Miranda gently massaged the lower curve of her belly, cursing the stretching ligaments she had been warned about and which seemed to have nearly reached capacity at 25 weeks. The pain easing now, her thoughts shifted back to the events that had led to her breaking her promise to Andrea.
By the time she had caught sight of the hands on her vintage Cartier watch after dealing with the catastrophe with the stills, she knew she had all but ruined things with Andrea. She had asked the younger woman to prove to her that she wasn't like Stephen, and in return Miranda had treated her like she had treated each of her previous husbands in the end… And she knew she should text the younger woman, she owed her that at least.
But she couldn't, Miranda cursed herself; she, Miranda Priestly, couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone because she was so God-damned frightened, so paralyzed with fear that she would be facing the dissolution of another relationship over the phone. She couldn't, not again. This one would end her, and not just because it would happen so impersonally over the phone but because it was Andrea. In previous relationships, Miranda's lateness or absence from meals or dates meant that she had already left the person in her mind. She abandoned the relationship before the idea could be formed that there was even a possibility of a breakup. It gave her the upper hand and the position of power.
But this…this wasn't like that. If she could just get to the restaurant before Andrea and her friend left, perhaps the sight of her there would soften Andrea enough that she could convince the younger woman to talk. It held a modicum of hope for success, after all, before now Andrea had been the one begging forgiveness from Miranda.
'God', Miranda thought, shaking her head - not caring if the perfect snowy coif was ruined in the process as she lay back against the seat. She was so tired of this, of the counting and keeping score and the endless game of who owes whom and for what. She would settle for even ground, for a tie. She didn't fear that idea anymore, not with Andrea beside her. That fear and vulnerability that made her so hungry for success as a means of protection and survival all but disappeared in the protective circle of Andrea's embrace.
Douglas was truly charming, Miranda had to admit as the meal passed by in a pleasant mix of conversation that touched on everything from his job as an analyst at Goldman-Sachs to his appreciation of Miranda's work and a history of his and Andy's friendship from all the way back in Ohio.
Smiling slightly at something the young man had said, Miranda tensed, holding back a wince as the pain from earlier in the car returned, again radiating through the base of her abdomen and into her hips. Perhaps she was going to be forced to wear the hideous support band daily now if her body was going to rebel like this on a regular basis. It wouldn't do to have the 'Queen of Fashion' as it were, wriggling around in her seat as though she were infested with fleas.
The crease between Andrea's eyebrows deepened, and strawberry lips twisted into a moue of discreet concern as she observed Miranda over the course of the meal.
She was fidgeting. Miranda Priestly did not fidget, Andy thought to herself as she watched the older woman shift in her seat, her lips letting out a soundless sigh. Every so often she thought she saw a flash of pain cross the usually imperturbable features, but whenever she looked again, the usual mask of the Ice Queen in public had returned. She tried to catch Miranda's eye so she could silently question her, but the older woman seemed determined to keep her distance, breezing over any talk or questions of their relationship when they came up in conversation.
Not here, not here. The mantra repeated itself over and over in Miranda's brain as she deflected the conversation skillfully from focusing on the details of her and Andrea's relationship. She wouldn't have it end publically, and were Andrea to answer truthfully to even the most innocent of questions posed by Douglas Miranda was afraid the entire façade would be laid bare.
And there was that nagging pain again. Once more, Miranda shifted in her seat in an attempt to ease the pressure in her hips. Damn, if what she was feeling was the sciatic nerve again she wouldn't be able to walk soon. She had to get home before the pain became truly unbearable and she was forced to call upon her chiropractor or God forbid, her employee Serena again.
"Douglas, it's been a truly delightful evening, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it a night. The Book is waiting and I have an early day at the office tomorrow." Miranda stood, her nostrils flaring even as her posture remained straight despite the discomfort that rising to an upright position brought.
Andy remained seated as Douglas, ever the gentleman, stood with Miranda. It was only 7:30, Miranda had been here less than an hour. She would have thought Miranda's early departure was a result of their fight - but if she was truly furious or 'done' she wouldn't have bothered even to show up. And she even offered a reason for her actions that bordered on an apology.
You're losing it Sachs, Andy told herself as she too stood to bid Miranda goodbye. "I'll see you at home?"
Miranda caught the question in the younger woman's voice and managed to nod, even leaning in to brush against Andrea's cheek and air-kiss Douglas. However, as soon as she had stepped into the evening air and could see the waiting Mercedes, she dropped the façade and grimaced outwardly, trying to apply pressure where Serena had the last time she'd been in this much pain when they had been in Paris for Fashion Week.
Back in the restaurant, Doug took a swig of Scotch and turned to face his longtime friend turned fiancée of the Dragon Lady. "Andy, she didn't seem very well."
"No, it's that we're fighting. I'm sorry she took off like that."
"Andy I really think she was ill."
"Well what am I supposed to do, Dougie? She doesn't want me to fuss over her and when I ask, she insists that she's fine. And that's' on a GOOD day. We haven't spoken all day, and if the first thing out of my mouth is 'Are you okay' or 'Are the babies okay' I honestly think she will throw me out on my ass. I know she's worried that's the only reason I'm sticking around, even though we've gone over the issue a thousand times that I didn't know she was pregnant when I came over that night. And I'm in the fucking doghouse already because I was an idiot and accused her of treating our relationship like hers and Stephen's."
"Yikes, I'm surprised she came at all. But back to Point A, you did confess your feelings for her after it. It's understandable that she would think that you felt something before, and then convinced yourself that you had felt it all along after you realized there was the opportunity of a family."
"Doug, what the fuck?"
"I'm not saying that's what happened Andy, or if that's even what she believes. But it's one interpretation."
"Oh God. Fine. You know what? Let's settle this now. I'm done dealing with this shit. She doesn't want to hear my apology then too bad. Maybe then I'll be able to get some goddamned sleep tonight because she's crazier than I thought if she thinks this, us, is over because of one fight."
Doug, who had been alarmed at the beginning of her speech, calmed slightly after hearing how it ended, with Andy rising from the table to go after Miranda in a flurry of black silk and determination.
The server came over shortly after and eyed the lone man at the table. "Will the rest of your party be returning?"
"Ah, no, no they won't." Doug answered, wincing slightly as he took the cheque from the man and reluctantly slid out his Visa card, praying for the first time since he had starting working full time at Goldman that his card wouldn't be declined. "Dammit, Sachs you owe me."
Outside, Andy rushed down the few cement steps and past the velvet rope that was being set out for that evening when the restaurant turned into a trendy midtown bar. The older woman wasn't yet at the car, which upon retrospection should have clued Andy in to the fact that something wasn't right. Miranda didn't waste time getting anywhere - and there was certainly no reason for her to prolong her at first hasty exodus.
"Miranda!" Andy forgot they were out in public and clearly visible to any passers-by. "Miranda!"
Hearing the anger in the younger woman's voice behind her, Miranda let her shoulders slump momentarily. She couldn't deal with this right now; she needed to get home and curl up with a heating pad and some tea. Ideally in this situation, Andrea would be by her side, working out the painful knots. But it was becoming clearer and clearer that that was no longer an option.
"Andrea, please." Miranda's voice came as close to pleading as it ever did, her mouth dry and her head starting to spin. "Please, we will discuss this I promise, but at home is all I ask."
"It's never the right time, is it?" Andy asked, not expecting an answer. The anger had drained from her voice and she looked skyward to keep her mascara from running. "We just keep missing it."
"Andrea,"
"No. No, it's fine Miranda. We'll talk about it later…take her home, Roy." Shivering slightly in the evening air, Andy turned and walked back into the restaurant only to ask the doorman to call her a cab.
Glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure Miranda was seated and ready to go, Roy was startled by the unhealthy pallor of Miranda's face. He had seen it grey as she'd entered the car and now he watched as she pressed one fist into the small of her back, her other hand appearing to support the weight of her abdomen as she leaned forward.
"Miranda?"
"Drive." Came the hoarse response. But despite the ragged tones, Roy understood the meaning behind them and stepped on it, making a note to himself to text Andy after he had dropped Miranda off
Doug appeared a few minutes later, shrugging off the coat he had just gotten one arm into and draping it over the young woman's shoulders. She didn't face him, but he could feel her trembling underneath the wool coat and he knew how upset she was.
"Dougie for the first time I really think she's going to leave me. I don't know what to do, I keep screwing things up!"
"That's how you know you're in a relationship, honey. And the way you know that relationship is going to last is just how far you're willing to go to correct those mistakes, even the times they're not yours."
"Since when did you turn from Yoda into Obi Wan?" Andy teased, trying to hide the quaver in her voice as she wiped at her eyes.
"To your woman, go you should. Happiness in should you let." Andy leaned in to kiss Doug on the cheek and he wrapped the woman who was like a younger sister to him in his arms before turning her around, nudging her towards the waiting cab. "Go, honey."
"I love you, Doug."
"Love you too, Andy girl. Now go get her, and next time you better bring the ultrasound pictures of my godchildren!"
Just then a text came through from Roy and Doug snorted as the Fast & Furious ringtone rang out. 'What? You think I'd still be alive if I'd chosen 'Driving Miss Daisy'?' she laughed as she fished her cell phone out of her Corso Como oversized clutch.
"Come home now. M not well."
Andy's laughter stopped short. "That's really weird, Roy never texts about Miranda or personal stuff unless I ask him to specifically - he knows Miranda would kill him." Andy spoke out loud although her words weren't meant for anyone.
"Go,"
But before Doug had even finished the monosyllabic command, Andy had already jogged to the curb in her 5 inch Zanotti's and flagged down a cab. All Doug saw when he turned to see where she had gone was one long, graceful leg disappearing into the back of the car.
Andy tried phoning Roy again now that she was in the cab, but the calls kept going to voicemail.
"Goddammit, Roy," andy growled, shoving her phone back in her clutch. "Sir?" she called up to the driver, "50 bucks if you can get me there in less than 10."
The cab now coming around the corner to their street, Andy turned to see Roy helping Miranda up the steps, and Miranda leaning heavily on his arm. Essentially throwing the money at the cabbie much like the first time she had rushed to the townhouse, Andy had the door open before the vehicle had even stopped. "Hey," she reached out for the older woman, ready to pull Miranda into her arms but she caught herself and stuck her hands in her pockets, not knowing if she had the right to touch the older woman at the moment. She had only been trying to respect Miranda's wishes by not coddling her at the restaurant and assuming she needed help with every small thing…but then she had turned around and saw Roy doing what she wished she could do.
Andy met Roy's eye and he shook his head slightly before glancing down at the quickly fading woman in his arms. Seeing the younger woman's internal struggle not to hover, the seldom heard voice rang out deeply in the night air. "Miranda,"
"I'm fine!" she sighed, rubbing her temples as the three stood in the doorway. "I will be fine, thank you Roy." She had composed herself once more and dismissed her driver, not unkindly but unmistakeably all the same.
Now it was Andy's turn. "Miranda…"
"It's just a headache, Andrea, but we do need to talk." Miranda unlocked the front door to the townhouse and switched on the foyer light before stepping out of her shoes and padding across the marble floor in her stocking feet much to Andy's surprise.
"Before we begin, could I perhaps ask for a cup of tea?"
Tea? Miranda didn't drink tea during the day. When she was ill, yes, and mornings when she still experienced morning sickness, but never out of the blue.
Putting the kettle on, Andy came back from the kitchen to catch Miranda wincing as she held her lower belly - holding her breath it seemed until the pain was gone. "Miranda, what is it? What's wrong?
"Damn it, I am fine!"
"Fine, you're fine. You win, Miranda. I get it."
As the younger woman left the room, Miranda let her head fall into her hands. God, if this migraine would just go away - but the pain was so intense it made her dizzy and unstable on her feet, moreso than the pregnancy already did.
Finding Miranda's favourite cup and saucer, Andy had just finished pouring the tea when the smallest noise came from the other room, but it was enough to send cup and saucer clattering to the floor as Andy burst back into the living room to see her worst assumptions about the origin of the noise proven correct. The noise had come from Miranda, who was partially on her knees, awkwardly slumped over the coffee table.
Even with Andy's arms linked underneath hers, the attempt to get Miranda on her feet proved futile as her knees gave out as soon as they had locked to stand. That scared Andrea most of all, and Andy was getting more desperate each time Miranda cried out.
"Andrea, I think I need to go to the hospital." Miranda's voice was very small and her breathing laboured and hitching as each fresh wave of pain forced a new sound of anguish from her lips, and Andrea realized she was wrong before. What scared her most of all would come with Miranda's next words.
"I think, I think I'm in labour".
Is it? Isn't it? But it can't, can it? No. Maybe?
Pairing: Andy/Miranda
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Yes, they are mine. I own them. Come to me my pretties and dance, DANCE I SAY. Or, more truthfully, not...
Chapter 28: Not the End
Alright, I'm hoping this efficiently (for me at least) chapter makes up for the tardiness of its predecessor. My next goal will be to have something to offer for the July Fic-a-thon at LJ. Fingers crossed!
Actually, instead of crossing your fingers if you could use them to type up some motivation for in the form of a review that would be swell!
Andy stood outside the restaurant. Doug was already inside waiting where he had been for the last 45 minutes. He knew the mercurial fashion editor was always 15 minutes early and so had arrived a half hour early so that he was sure not to be late.
Outside, Andy continued to pace, refusing to text Miranda on principle. She would be here, she told herself, she said she would be here and she will be. A small voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Stephen's and Lily's and her parents' kept pushing forward the question, 'Will she?' Andy knew that this was a test of sorts that she had put Miranda to, despite having had no intent to do so and despite her own status of being in the doghouse. And she also knew Miranda was smart enough to have figured it out. So what game was she playing? Did she really not want to be with her anymore?
It rankled Miranda to no end that she was being forced to participate in these childish games - even if Andrea hadn't meant for this to be a test, Miranda knew it was one. One she had failed in the past and one it looked as though she would fail now as well. She refused to text the younger woman and apologize. She was still too angry at her for the other night. If Andrea believed in their relationship as she did she wouldn't give up on Miranda so quickly - and she had to believe that, had to hold on to that thought and that belief so that she could claw through the current issues in her life and stay afloat.
But ten, then twenty minutes passed. "Roy," Miranda spoke from the back seat of the Mercedes. "Isn't there anything you can do to get through this traffic?" The usual annoyance sliced through the familiar icy tones, but years of practice meant that Roy could discern a hint of desperation. "I'm sorry, Miranda, they've closed 49th and Levington and rerouted through Carlton. Every direction is jammed solid."
Miranda let her posture slouch slightly and rested her head on the headrest. She had already been nearly 15 minutes late leaving the office; one of the stills had been ruined in transit from the cover shoot for this month and another one had to be chosen in its place. None of them were right for the cover, and the result was sub-par - something Miranda Priestly did not tolerate in her publication. But there had been no alternative and even less time, and short of calling for an entirely new shoot there was no other option. Especially if what Irv had said proved to be true.
The thought of the meeting earlier with the sly, sneering little man played back in Miranda's mind as she heard his pseudo-sympathy and his mocking tone echo in her ears. She was only drawn out of the painful recollection by an even stronger pain at the base of her abdomen.
Taking deep breaths, Miranda gently massaged the lower curve of her belly, cursing the stretching ligaments she had been warned about and which seemed to have nearly reached capacity at 25 weeks. The pain easing now, her thoughts shifted back to the events that had led to her breaking her promise to Andrea.
By the time she had caught sight of the hands on her vintage Cartier watch after dealing with the catastrophe with the stills, she knew she had all but ruined things with Andrea. She had asked the younger woman to prove to her that she wasn't like Stephen, and in return Miranda had treated her like she had treated each of her previous husbands in the end… And she knew she should text the younger woman, she owed her that at least.
But she couldn't, Miranda cursed herself; she, Miranda Priestly, couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone because she was so God-damned frightened, so paralyzed with fear that she would be facing the dissolution of another relationship over the phone. She couldn't, not again. This one would end her, and not just because it would happen so impersonally over the phone but because it was Andrea. In previous relationships, Miranda's lateness or absence from meals or dates meant that she had already left the person in her mind. She abandoned the relationship before the idea could be formed that there was even a possibility of a breakup. It gave her the upper hand and the position of power.
But this…this wasn't like that. If she could just get to the restaurant before Andrea and her friend left, perhaps the sight of her there would soften Andrea enough that she could convince the younger woman to talk. It held a modicum of hope for success, after all, before now Andrea had been the one begging forgiveness from Miranda.
'God', Miranda thought, shaking her head - not caring if the perfect snowy coif was ruined in the process as she lay back against the seat. She was so tired of this, of the counting and keeping score and the endless game of who owes whom and for what. She would settle for even ground, for a tie. She didn't fear that idea anymore, not with Andrea beside her. That fear and vulnerability that made her so hungry for success as a means of protection and survival all but disappeared in the protective circle of Andrea's embrace.
Douglas was truly charming, Miranda had to admit as the meal passed by in a pleasant mix of conversation that touched on everything from his job as an analyst at Goldman-Sachs to his appreciation of Miranda's work and a history of his and Andy's friendship from all the way back in Ohio.
Smiling slightly at something the young man had said, Miranda tensed, holding back a wince as the pain from earlier in the car returned, again radiating through the base of her abdomen and into her hips. Perhaps she was going to be forced to wear the hideous support band daily now if her body was going to rebel like this on a regular basis. It wouldn't do to have the 'Queen of Fashion' as it were, wriggling around in her seat as though she were infested with fleas.
The crease between Andrea's eyebrows deepened, and strawberry lips twisted into a moue of discreet concern as she observed Miranda over the course of the meal.
She was fidgeting. Miranda Priestly did not fidget, Andy thought to herself as she watched the older woman shift in her seat, her lips letting out a soundless sigh. Every so often she thought she saw a flash of pain cross the usually imperturbable features, but whenever she looked again, the usual mask of the Ice Queen in public had returned. She tried to catch Miranda's eye so she could silently question her, but the older woman seemed determined to keep her distance, breezing over any talk or questions of their relationship when they came up in conversation.
Not here, not here. The mantra repeated itself over and over in Miranda's brain as she deflected the conversation skillfully from focusing on the details of her and Andrea's relationship. She wouldn't have it end publically, and were Andrea to answer truthfully to even the most innocent of questions posed by Douglas Miranda was afraid the entire façade would be laid bare.
And there was that nagging pain again. Once more, Miranda shifted in her seat in an attempt to ease the pressure in her hips. Damn, if what she was feeling was the sciatic nerve again she wouldn't be able to walk soon. She had to get home before the pain became truly unbearable and she was forced to call upon her chiropractor or God forbid, her employee Serena again.
"Douglas, it's been a truly delightful evening, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to call it a night. The Book is waiting and I have an early day at the office tomorrow." Miranda stood, her nostrils flaring even as her posture remained straight despite the discomfort that rising to an upright position brought.
Andy remained seated as Douglas, ever the gentleman, stood with Miranda. It was only 7:30, Miranda had been here less than an hour. She would have thought Miranda's early departure was a result of their fight - but if she was truly furious or 'done' she wouldn't have bothered even to show up. And she even offered a reason for her actions that bordered on an apology.
You're losing it Sachs, Andy told herself as she too stood to bid Miranda goodbye. "I'll see you at home?"
Miranda caught the question in the younger woman's voice and managed to nod, even leaning in to brush against Andrea's cheek and air-kiss Douglas. However, as soon as she had stepped into the evening air and could see the waiting Mercedes, she dropped the façade and grimaced outwardly, trying to apply pressure where Serena had the last time she'd been in this much pain when they had been in Paris for Fashion Week.
Back in the restaurant, Doug took a swig of Scotch and turned to face his longtime friend turned fiancée of the Dragon Lady. "Andy, she didn't seem very well."
"No, it's that we're fighting. I'm sorry she took off like that."
"Andy I really think she was ill."
"Well what am I supposed to do, Dougie? She doesn't want me to fuss over her and when I ask, she insists that she's fine. And that's' on a GOOD day. We haven't spoken all day, and if the first thing out of my mouth is 'Are you okay' or 'Are the babies okay' I honestly think she will throw me out on my ass. I know she's worried that's the only reason I'm sticking around, even though we've gone over the issue a thousand times that I didn't know she was pregnant when I came over that night. And I'm in the fucking doghouse already because I was an idiot and accused her of treating our relationship like hers and Stephen's."
"Yikes, I'm surprised she came at all. But back to Point A, you did confess your feelings for her after it. It's understandable that she would think that you felt something before, and then convinced yourself that you had felt it all along after you realized there was the opportunity of a family."
"Doug, what the fuck?"
"I'm not saying that's what happened Andy, or if that's even what she believes. But it's one interpretation."
"Oh God. Fine. You know what? Let's settle this now. I'm done dealing with this shit. She doesn't want to hear my apology then too bad. Maybe then I'll be able to get some goddamned sleep tonight because she's crazier than I thought if she thinks this, us, is over because of one fight."
Doug, who had been alarmed at the beginning of her speech, calmed slightly after hearing how it ended, with Andy rising from the table to go after Miranda in a flurry of black silk and determination.
The server came over shortly after and eyed the lone man at the table. "Will the rest of your party be returning?"
"Ah, no, no they won't." Doug answered, wincing slightly as he took the cheque from the man and reluctantly slid out his Visa card, praying for the first time since he had starting working full time at Goldman that his card wouldn't be declined. "Dammit, Sachs you owe me."
Outside, Andy rushed down the few cement steps and past the velvet rope that was being set out for that evening when the restaurant turned into a trendy midtown bar. The older woman wasn't yet at the car, which upon retrospection should have clued Andy in to the fact that something wasn't right. Miranda didn't waste time getting anywhere - and there was certainly no reason for her to prolong her at first hasty exodus.
"Miranda!" Andy forgot they were out in public and clearly visible to any passers-by. "Miranda!"
Hearing the anger in the younger woman's voice behind her, Miranda let her shoulders slump momentarily. She couldn't deal with this right now; she needed to get home and curl up with a heating pad and some tea. Ideally in this situation, Andrea would be by her side, working out the painful knots. But it was becoming clearer and clearer that that was no longer an option.
"Andrea, please." Miranda's voice came as close to pleading as it ever did, her mouth dry and her head starting to spin. "Please, we will discuss this I promise, but at home is all I ask."
"It's never the right time, is it?" Andy asked, not expecting an answer. The anger had drained from her voice and she looked skyward to keep her mascara from running. "We just keep missing it."
"Andrea,"
"No. No, it's fine Miranda. We'll talk about it later…take her home, Roy." Shivering slightly in the evening air, Andy turned and walked back into the restaurant only to ask the doorman to call her a cab.
Glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure Miranda was seated and ready to go, Roy was startled by the unhealthy pallor of Miranda's face. He had seen it grey as she'd entered the car and now he watched as she pressed one fist into the small of her back, her other hand appearing to support the weight of her abdomen as she leaned forward.
"Miranda?"
"Drive." Came the hoarse response. But despite the ragged tones, Roy understood the meaning behind them and stepped on it, making a note to himself to text Andy after he had dropped Miranda off
Doug appeared a few minutes later, shrugging off the coat he had just gotten one arm into and draping it over the young woman's shoulders. She didn't face him, but he could feel her trembling underneath the wool coat and he knew how upset she was.
"Dougie for the first time I really think she's going to leave me. I don't know what to do, I keep screwing things up!"
"That's how you know you're in a relationship, honey. And the way you know that relationship is going to last is just how far you're willing to go to correct those mistakes, even the times they're not yours."
"Since when did you turn from Yoda into Obi Wan?" Andy teased, trying to hide the quaver in her voice as she wiped at her eyes.
"To your woman, go you should. Happiness in should you let." Andy leaned in to kiss Doug on the cheek and he wrapped the woman who was like a younger sister to him in his arms before turning her around, nudging her towards the waiting cab. "Go, honey."
"I love you, Doug."
"Love you too, Andy girl. Now go get her, and next time you better bring the ultrasound pictures of my godchildren!"
Just then a text came through from Roy and Doug snorted as the Fast & Furious ringtone rang out. 'What? You think I'd still be alive if I'd chosen 'Driving Miss Daisy'?' she laughed as she fished her cell phone out of her Corso Como oversized clutch.
"Come home now. M not well."
Andy's laughter stopped short. "That's really weird, Roy never texts about Miranda or personal stuff unless I ask him to specifically - he knows Miranda would kill him." Andy spoke out loud although her words weren't meant for anyone.
"Go,"
But before Doug had even finished the monosyllabic command, Andy had already jogged to the curb in her 5 inch Zanotti's and flagged down a cab. All Doug saw when he turned to see where she had gone was one long, graceful leg disappearing into the back of the car.
Andy tried phoning Roy again now that she was in the cab, but the calls kept going to voicemail.
"Goddammit, Roy," andy growled, shoving her phone back in her clutch. "Sir?" she called up to the driver, "50 bucks if you can get me there in less than 10."
The cab now coming around the corner to their street, Andy turned to see Roy helping Miranda up the steps, and Miranda leaning heavily on his arm. Essentially throwing the money at the cabbie much like the first time she had rushed to the townhouse, Andy had the door open before the vehicle had even stopped. "Hey," she reached out for the older woman, ready to pull Miranda into her arms but she caught herself and stuck her hands in her pockets, not knowing if she had the right to touch the older woman at the moment. She had only been trying to respect Miranda's wishes by not coddling her at the restaurant and assuming she needed help with every small thing…but then she had turned around and saw Roy doing what she wished she could do.
Andy met Roy's eye and he shook his head slightly before glancing down at the quickly fading woman in his arms. Seeing the younger woman's internal struggle not to hover, the seldom heard voice rang out deeply in the night air. "Miranda,"
"I'm fine!" she sighed, rubbing her temples as the three stood in the doorway. "I will be fine, thank you Roy." She had composed herself once more and dismissed her driver, not unkindly but unmistakeably all the same.
Now it was Andy's turn. "Miranda…"
"It's just a headache, Andrea, but we do need to talk." Miranda unlocked the front door to the townhouse and switched on the foyer light before stepping out of her shoes and padding across the marble floor in her stocking feet much to Andy's surprise.
"Before we begin, could I perhaps ask for a cup of tea?"
Tea? Miranda didn't drink tea during the day. When she was ill, yes, and mornings when she still experienced morning sickness, but never out of the blue.
Putting the kettle on, Andy came back from the kitchen to catch Miranda wincing as she held her lower belly - holding her breath it seemed until the pain was gone. "Miranda, what is it? What's wrong?
"Damn it, I am fine!"
"Fine, you're fine. You win, Miranda. I get it."
As the younger woman left the room, Miranda let her head fall into her hands. God, if this migraine would just go away - but the pain was so intense it made her dizzy and unstable on her feet, moreso than the pregnancy already did.
Finding Miranda's favourite cup and saucer, Andy had just finished pouring the tea when the smallest noise came from the other room, but it was enough to send cup and saucer clattering to the floor as Andy burst back into the living room to see her worst assumptions about the origin of the noise proven correct. The noise had come from Miranda, who was partially on her knees, awkwardly slumped over the coffee table.
Even with Andy's arms linked underneath hers, the attempt to get Miranda on her feet proved futile as her knees gave out as soon as they had locked to stand. That scared Andrea most of all, and Andy was getting more desperate each time Miranda cried out.
"Andrea, I think I need to go to the hospital." Miranda's voice was very small and her breathing laboured and hitching as each fresh wave of pain forced a new sound of anguish from her lips, and Andrea realized she was wrong before. What scared her most of all would come with Miranda's next words.
"I think, I think I'm in labour".
Is it? Isn't it? But it can't, can it? No. Maybe?